


Will You Accept This Love?

by AndreaLyn



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 11:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11781828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: This season on the Bachelorette, Josh Faraday is looking for love in all the right places. Vasquez wishes that didn't bother him so much.





	Will You Accept This Love?

It’s day one in the house and Joshua Faraday is contestant number five on a list of twelve, one more person for Vasquez to interview and film the same canned responses from. After so many seasons filming this show, he’s grown deeply cynical that anyone is here for altruistic reasons, after having watched one too many fame-hungry actors roll into the door trying to start a career for themselves in reality shows or angling to become the next Bachelor and find as many women as they can sleep with. 

Who knows? Maybe this year will be different. 

“Tell us what you’re looking for,” Vasquez prods the man onwards, barely even glancing at him as he sets the shot and makes sure the sound mic is out of the way.

“I’m looking for love.” The man winks at the camera. “The minute I walked in here, I had a good feeling I came to the right place.”

Vasquez stifles his groan and smiles placidly at the idiot on camera, reading through his list of pre-written questions. The first few are standard and don’t deserve his attention, but when Vasquez asks about his perfect date, the answer makes him start paying actual attention. Usually, these idiots parrot the same line about overblown romance that would make anyone gag in real life, but Faraday just grins sheepishly at Vasquez, followed by a casual shrug.

“My ideal date is the kind where you can kick back with a couple of drinks in your hand, joking about stupid stuff, and pretty much wasting the day away. I mean, if it’s good, it ends with a roll in the hay. Men, women, doesn’t matter who I’m out with, that’s pretty much the ideal.” Vasquez makes a few notes on the clipboard to give to Sam, ideas for angles that he can play out, though he’s not sure that Sam will want to play up Faraday as the bisexual joker, but it’s not a bad square to get pegged into. It’d be a first, that’s for sure. 

Faraday snorts and catches Vasquez’s attention. “What?” he asks, adjusting the boom as he sets up for the next question.

Faraday mimics the writing. “I didn’t realize this was a therapy session.” Vasquez keeps staring at him, not understanding. “The writing. What’s that for?”

“We need to cast you all in a role,” Vasquez admits. “The producers like to know our thoughts.”

“Yeah? What do you think about me?” Faraday asks.

_Trouble_ , is what Vasquez thinks clearly. “I think that you might just have a chance of finding that love you want, if you play this right.”

“Lucky for me, I always win,” Faraday says with a grin and a wink. “And when I’m not winning, I’m not averse to fixing the game for my benefit.”

Vasquez barely suppresses the roll of his eyes, but he privately thinks to himself that at least this season of the show isn’t going to be boring.

If he only knew how true that was, he would have told himself to get out while the trouble was only barely inside the door, but hindsight is twenty-twenty.

* * *

Billy hands him a beer the minute their replacements get to the house, leaving them to the guest house that they’ve been keeping the staff in. It’s been two weeks of shooting and Vasquez has been distracted, to say the least, but he’s hoping that no one else has noticed. 

The problem is that he’s never met anyone like Josh Faraday in his life, certainly not on the show, and the man is proving himself to be a nuisance of the highest order. Instead of flirting with Emma all the time, he teases and prods at her with more brotherly affection than anything, making her laugh, getting her comfortable, but ends up spending the majority of the rest of his time absently talking with Vasquez and ruining shots.

He keeps _staring_ at the camera, something Vasquez had nearly shouted at him about when it occurred to him that he’s not staring at the camera.

Faraday is staring at _him_. 

It makes him angry on Emma’s behalf, on the show’s behalf. Why come here if you’re just going to waste everyone’s time? Yet, he can’t find it in him to report Faraday to production, because then he’ll be sent home, and Vasquez won’t get to stare at him all day, talk to him when they set up for shots, poke fun back at him when his jokes aren’t funny and laugh warmly when they are.

“Well?” Vasquez prods. “What do you think? She sends Teddy home next, I think.”

“He’s out of his depth,” Billy agrees evenly, but the whole time, he’s staring at Vasquez like he’s trying to make him break. “I see you trying to steer the subject.”

“Steer where? How?” 

“You may have Sam fooled for now, but only because he’s trying to make sure McCann doesn’t do anything illegal,” Billy says, sipping his beer and giving Vasquez a knowing look. “Joshua Faraday.”

Damn the man, because he happens to be fishing for a reaction and gets a bite. Without wanting to, Vasquez’s cheeks flush high and hot, betraying him. It’s not his fault that he’s grown to like the man so much. There’s always a lot of time between takes and Faraday is always good for a joke, always makes sure to bring Vasquez the coffee he likes when he can’t get away, and he’s always looking. Beyond all that, he’s permanently _good_ to look at, which Vasquez isn’t eager to lose out on.

“It’s nothing,” Vasquez insists.

“He goes both ways,” Billy points out. “I had to talk Goody out of making it into a chyron.”

Vasquez drinks his beer vengefully, like the alcohol will help to dull the bitterness that comes with the next words. “He’s on a show to woo Emma. They’re going on dates, I think he’s the second favorite after Matthew,” he says, which means that Faraday is just a flirt who doesn’t know any better. Who cares if he goes both ways? It doesn’t help Vasquez when he’s currently flirting with a woman every day right in front of his eyes.

Billy gives a disbelieving sound. “I’m just saying, maybe sometime, you ought to be watching some of the bedroom footage.”

He’s been avoiding it on the off chance that something will be found there that makes him miserable, some drunken fumble with Emma or maybe one of the other contestants, but while Billy isn’t a cruel man, he’d never stoop to fuck with Vasquez’s head like this, which means that he _knows_ something.

“Billy, what…?”

“I’m just saying, I don’t think that it’s Emma’s name on his lips when he’s touching himself. He does a lot of that, incidentally,” Billy says. “Won’t make it to air, but you know, it’s not a bad watch.” He drinks from his beer without moving his gaze from Vasquez for a single moment, all the while Vasquez’s heart pounds in his chest.

Vasquez doesn’t bolt for the cutting room, but he definitely leaves before he has a second drink.

There are some things that are more urgent than beer with friends; finding out what Faraday looks like when he’s touching himself just happens to be one of them.

* * *

Vasquez barely sleeps that night, occupied as he is watching all the rough cuts of footage shot in the bedrooms. Faraday isn’t shouting out his name, but it’s not Emma’s either as he writhes in the bed, hips arching up and moaning as he touches himself. Maybe, just maybe, he can convince himself that Faraday’s breathless climax is accompanied by his mouth forming a soft ‘V’, but he thinks that can be filed under wishful thinking.

Vasquez refrains from touching himself, but just barely.

The next day, he can barely look Faraday in the eye because now he knows what he looks like when he comes, which is _a problem_. 

Then, Faraday winks at him and Vasquez realizes how deeply he’s in trouble when his stomach instantly feels like someone dumped a dozen live butterflies inside and they’re all trying their best to escape.

“You watched, didn’t you?” Billy says smugly, as they set up for the day and Faraday is off collecting muffins for Vasquez. 

“I am a professional camera operator and I have no idea what you mean,” Vasquez replies, choosing denial instead of acknowledging what he’s done. “Now, shut up, and never tell me again when that sort of footage is available.” The last thing he needs is to be fired for inappropriately touching himself in the cutting room just because all his sense has gone out the window, courtesy of Josh Faraday.

* * *

It all happens so quickly that Vasquez barely realizes what’s happening until it’s over. 

They’d been outside filming at the pool while Emma held court with the men surrounding her. Faraday had been inside fetching sunscreen when McCann had seen this as some kind of opportunity to get ahead or maybe just to be a complete ass, sticking his foot out when Faraday is on his way back before adding injury to insult, shoving Faraday towards the ground, leaving him bleeding and dazed.

Without even thinking, ignoring Emma’s cries of alarm, Vasquez had abandoned his camera and stormed forward, assaulting McCann a little to get him to clear away from Faraday, just so Vasquez can crawl in front of him, staring at Faraday with worry.

“Vasquez?” Faraday asks, which Vasquez barely hears over the sound of his pounding heart.

“Yes,” he promises, murmuring the word once more, carrying Faraday away from the cameras and the mansion, bringing him into their little emergency medical room in the guesthouse. It takes him until this arrival for his brain to calm down past the swarm of panic and fear.

He settles Faraday in with the medic and gives the report as best as he can, trying so very hard not to let panic overwhelm him. It’s not a big deal, it turns out, just a concussion and some bleeding that will stop soon. The medic presses a hand to Vasquez’s shoulder on his way out, squeezing like he’s the one who needs the support.

Vasquez takes the handkerchief from Faraday, drifting closer to him and perching on the arm of the couch that Faraday is sitting on. He’s sure that the concern is heavy in his gaze, staring at the blood matting Faraday’s hair. He reaches forward with one hand to apply pressure, the other sliding his fingers into the hair around it, trying to rearrange it back to something decent.

He hears the catch in Faraday’s breathing, but tells himself not to think too much about it. He’s lost a lot of blood, anything could be causing that.

“Why did you come on the show?” Vasquez prompts, when the comfortable silence between them starts to drag into something less so. It also gives him a good excuse to keep stroking his fingers through Faraday’s hair, arranging it tidily all around the mess of the blood, though Vasquez drags his thumb through the skin near the scalp there, too, coaxing on as many of those little breaths from Faraday as he can.

“I meant what I said,” Faraday gets out, his words sounding dazed. “I really am trying to find love.”

“Here? On a reality show?” Vasquez scoffs derisively.

“The last few relationships I had, they were shit,” Faraday says bluntly. “I’m not talking about the kind where things don’t gel, but the genuine ticket of disastrous. My last boyfriend stole half my shit, stuck it in his pick-up, all because he got jealous of my poker nights. Last girl I dated, she turned into one of those paranoid clingy types who didn’t want to give me a second alone. When Goody contacted me, asked if I’d do the show, Emma seemed like a really nice girl. Besides, what’s the harm?”

Vasquez hums as he lets himself drift into an absent lull of a moment, stroking Faraday’s hair, feeling cozy and comfortable perched on the arm of the couch that Faraday has settled into, the warmth of his body pressed up against Vasquez’s side. He doesn’t think he’s imagining it, but Faraday might be leaning into him, like he doesn’t want to hold himself upright anymore and trusts Vasquez to do the task for him.

“You could end up winning,” Vasquez points out, which is probably the whole point, but it seems pretty awful to him, who’s managed to pour all his affection and longing into something for a contestant, which isn’t very smart. “Do you like her?”

“Emma? She’s great,” Faraday raves. “I mean, I’ve met a lot of great people here.” He cranes his head up, forcing Vasquez’s fingers to slide through Faraday’s hair and settle at the nape of his neck. “So, what about you? You ever been lured to do a show like this?”

Vasquez lets out a soft huff of breath. “Sam keeps trying to convince me, but they ah, they won’t let me.”

“Why not? They got a ban on Mexicans?” Faraday drawls.

“More like, I don’t think the country is ready for a man trying to woo the bachelor,” he says pointedly, taking back his hand because he doesn’t think having his hands all over Faraday is right when he’s telling this about himself. “I’m gay,” he tells Faraday, with no shame in his voice. 

Faraday shrugs and gives Vasquez a loopy, crooked smile. Again, Vasquez thinks he’s imagining it, but there’s something glittering in Faraday’s eyes, something that looks suspiciously like delight. “I go both ways, sweetheart, you really think I was gonna care?”

It’s like the sun has risen after a cold night and Vasquez is standing directly in its path. He feels warm all over at Faraday’s dopey smile, sure that he’s blushing, and that warm feeling curls up near his heart and spreads through him. He slides his fingers back into Faraday’s hair to stroke at the short strands, thumb scraping at his scalp as he keeps applying pressure.

“The job keeps me too busy to meet people,” Vasquez admits, feeling like he owes Faraday the truth. “I’m always keeping my eye open, though.”

“You looking for love, too?” Faraday teases.

“The right man is going to come along,” he says, fairly sure that the right man has already come around and unfortunately, he’s vying for someone else’s heart. Well, no one said that life had to be fair to him, did they? Besides, he barely knows Josh Faraday apart from the past few weeks, he just knows he feels a connection the likes of which he’s never felt before.

Stupidly, like he’s the one with the head wound, he thinks that he should say something. Maybe he does have a chance, but he needs to open his mouth and _speak_.

“Josh, listen, there’s…”

“There he is,” Sam cuts off Vasquez’s heartfelt confession, stomping into the room with a murderous look in his eye. “You all right, Faraday? Everything working fine?”

“I ain’t suing,” Faraday says, almost tiredly.

“Forget the company, are _you_ okay?” Sam asks, softening the fury behind his words. Vasquez subtly slides his fingers away from Faraday’s hair, removing the cloth to check on the bleeding. He catches Sam’s gaze and gives a firm nod to assure him that Faraday will live and he’s going to be fine. “McCann’s gone, we did the boot twenty minutes back. You won’t have to worry about him anymore.”

“What an asshole,” Faraday gripes, “Though, shame.”

“Shame?” Vasquez echoes, puzzled.

“Yeah, I was looking forward to Emma picking the world’s greatest lover over him,” Faraday says, grinning like an idiot and practically daring Sam or Vasquez to ask.

Vasquez shakes his head, giving Sam a pleading look that says, _no_ , don’t, _stop_.

Sam, however, is apparently cruel.

“And who would that be, Mr. Faraday?”

“Give me some camera time at the next rose ceremony and I bet that you’ll find out,” he says, checking his scalp for any residual bleeding. When there’s nothing new there, he’s on his feet, clapping Vasquez on the shoulder, waggling his brows at Sam as he leaves.

Vasquez sighs heavily. “You just had to ask.”

“Isn’t there a camera somewhere for you to operate?” Sam replies evenly.

“Yes, boss,” Vasquez agrees, heading back to work and trying to put his missed opportunity out of his mind and get back to work before Sam decides to write him up for abandoning his post. Maybe he’ll get another chance to tell Faraday everything or maybe he won’t. It’s no skin off his back if he doesn’t, right?

(He just wishes he could convince himself of that)

* * *

Vasquez is trying very hard to ignore Billy and Sam’s conversation to the right of them as they set up the shot for the next rose ceremony. They’re down to four contestants, now, with Faraday, Matthew Cullen, a young kid named Red, and a local teacher named Anthony. Vasquez already knows that barring a surprise twist, Emma decided weeks ago that Matthew’s won her heart, but every time they’re here, she stares at Faraday more fondly than Vasquez likes.

Maybe he’s convinced himself that something is there between them when it’s not.

“How long is this gonna take?” Speak of the devil, Vasquez thinks, as Faraday ambles up to sprawl on a couch beside him, just in the shot in case they get going, but he tips his head back to grin at Vasquez. “Hey,” he greets him with a lascivious grin and a wink to go with it. “Heard you boys getting loud at the guest house last night.”

“Poker night,” Vasquez admits.

“Next time, you oughta invite me.”

Vasquez rolls his eyes. “I think you’re a little busy here, _guero_ , no? Shouldn’t you be trying to win someone’s heart?”

“Oh,” Faraday says with a determined shake of his head, “I am damn well trying, you bet that ass of yours.”

Vasquez has to forcibly ignore this. If he thinks too hard about what Faraday is actually here for, he’s just going to depress himself thinking about how Emma might end up choosing Faraday and they’ll be on the covers of magazines and going to talk shows to discuss how they fell in love and can’t imagine anything else. Worse, what happens if he doesn’t win, but Sam likes his charm so much that he casts him for the next season of the Bachelor? Vasquez thinks he might just have to quit if he has to watch multiple women throwing themselves at Faraday day in and day out, all the while his heart shatters. His grip on the camera gets tighter as Sam claps his hands, trying to draw his thoughts away from this depressing spiral.

“All right, everyone, let’s roll, we’re ready for Emma’s next choice!” 

Faraday bites his lip, grinning up at Vasquez, not moving back to his place. He looks teasingly delicious in that suit of his, the emerald green of his tie bringing out his eyes. “Faraday,” Vasquez gets out, trying to gesture to his mark to get him moving.

“Trust me?”

“What?” Vasquez asks, frowning as Billy literally corrals Faraday away, leaving Vasquez lost as to why Faraday keeps staring at him with hope clear in his eyes. Faraday doesn’t go straight to his mark now, either, detouring to press a kiss to Emma’s cheek, whispering something to her. Her eyes glint with mischief and she glances quickly from Vasquez to Billy, then over to Sam, shaking her head at Faraday.

He thinks that he can make out her saying, “You’re crazy,” but it’s fond and hapless. “Go get him.” Vasquez ignores it as he settles behind the camera for the shot, listening for Sam giving the cues to start shooting. 

“Okay, everyone, four men out there, Emma, three roses. Remember, don’t lose your light,” Sam instructs, gesturing for Billy and Vasquez to start rolling.

After doing this for years, normally Vasquez can set himself on autopilot and turn his brain off, but ever since Faraday walked onto this set, he’s been hyper-aware of the other man’s presence. Instead of just letting the film roll, he’s always checking on what he’s doing. Right now, he looks nervous, twitchy, and it’s making Vasquez a bit wary, too.

“…so I just want to thank you all for being here with me.”

“It’s our pleasure, Miss Emma,” Matthew says, all charming smiles.

“Now, before I choose my first gentleman, I think that one of them has something to say,” she says, smiling in Faraday’s direction and going so far as to give him an encouraging nod of his head. “Go on, Joshua.”

“Emma,” Faraday says, standing and crossing the distance between them, forcing Vasquez to pan out slightly to catch the both of them in the frame. “Ever since I got here, you’ve been kind and gracious, beautiful and great with a gun,” he says, referencing the date they’d gone on, when Vasquez had showed off his lasso tricks in the stable during breaks much to Faraday’s delight, at the time. “I came here to look for love and I’m really happy to say that I think I found it.”

Vasquez can feel his heart sinking like a stone, crashing painfully when it rock bottoms. He musters up the heart to ignore it, telling himself that he’d been stupid to develop a crush on a man who would be taken by some woman either now, or very soon. _Stupid_ , he accuses himself, he’s been so very stupid.

Hoping the misery isn’t showing on his face, he tries to ignore the sympathetic look Billy is shooting him from the side.

“I hope you can forgive me for stealing this moment from you,” Faraday is going on, both of Emma’s hands in his own, lifting them up to brush a kiss to her knuckles, “but I think you and I both know that it’s just not going to work out between us.”

_What?_

“What?” he hears Sam hiss nearby. The look Billy is giving him slides from sympathy to amusement, like he knows what’s coming.

“I got here and I didn’t expect much, though I was hoping for the best. Then, I met me the funniest, handsomest, meanest son of a bitch that I could’ve ever hoped to,” he says, releasing Emma’s hands and turning until he’s directly in Vasquez’s line of sight, staring at him through the camera lens with a hungry look. “Don’t look so shocked, sweetheart,” he says, and though it could be to the camera, Vasquez’s heart beats merrily onwards because he doesn’t think it is, not at all.

He doesn’t have to wonder very long, what with Faraday relinquishing his hold on Emma’s hands so he can cross the space between them with a few determined strides. 

The shot is ruined, thinks Vasquez. They’ll never be able to salvage this….

“Hey,” Faraday murmurs, prying off his microphone and waggling his brows at Vasquez. “You uh, you want to get out of here? I don’t think I’m going to end up winning Emma’s heart. Don’t feel much like tryin’, seeing as I’d rather win yours.”

His huff of disbelieving laughter is genuine and Vasquez hates himself for being just a little charmed.

Grabbing that emerald tie of Faraday’s, Vasquez yanks him in for a possessive kiss, lest Faraday suddenly decide to change his mind before Vasquez can convince him not to. If anyone had told him that _this_ man, _this_ contestant would be the one to work his way into Vasquez’s heart, he’d have called them crazy.

Ignoring the sarcastic clapping from Billy as he tries to shove off Faraday’s jacket, he doesn’t really care how unlikely it all is, so long as he gets to have it.

* * *

“Next, on the Bachelorette…”

“Josh is a sweet guy, you know,” says Emma, whose tinny voice echoes on Vasquez’s shitty television. “I really feel comfortable around him in a way that I don’t with the others because I feel like there’s no pressure on me to do anything I don’t want to.” A pause, Vasquez imagines he hears Billy’s prodding voice. “I’m not worried that he’s not interested,” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I think he’ll get exactly what he’s after.”

“ _Guero_ ,” Vasquez complains, unearthing himself from the mess of blankets and pillows they’ve made after they collapsed in bed after round three. He feels a mess and he doesn’t like being woken up from his post-coital nap to find Josh watching his own follies and idiocies on television. “No,” is all he protests.

“Shh,” Faraday instructs, control in hand as he stares at the scene on screen (which just so happens to be the group of them outside, scattered around the pool). He keeps staring, like he’s rapt by his own swimsuit clad body. “This is my favorite part.”

Vasquez struggles to sit up, realizing as he does that this is a recording. It’s the pool episode, the one time that Vasquez abandoned his post and definitely wound up in the shot. Sighing, he shuffles back into the warmth of the blankets and curls into Faraday’s body, arm slung around his waist and cheek pressed to his chest as he watches McCann shoving Faraday towards the pool, flinching again at the way Faraday’s head hits the cement.

Then, with more rage and fervor than Vasquez remembers, there he is, a vengeful blur stalking out from behind one of the cameras. He still can’t believe that Sam kept this in, but he thinks it probably is good drama. The cut to Billy’s camera is swift as Vasquez storms over and grabs McCann by the wrist tightly, snarling at him in Spanish and shoving him aside.

“What’d you say to him? I always wanted to know,” Faraday asks with a fond laugh, stroking his fingers through Vasquez’s hair.

“Nothing that should be allowed to be aired on television,” is Vasquez’s dark reply.

Still, he’s silent for what happens next on screen. 

There he is, tenderly framing Faraday’s bloody face with both his hands, stroking his thumb up and down the line of his neck. Nearby, Emma is hiding a rueful smile behind her palm, but Vasquez has eyes for no one but Faraday and the concussed, injured Irishman doesn’t seem to want to look anywhere but up, on screen.

“Vasquez?” the Faraday on screen asks, sounding dazed. 

“Yes,” he hears himself say, bowing their heads together as he lifts Faraday into a bridal carry, shouting for a medic. The scene calms as the two of them leave a scene of chaos behind them, Matthew shouting at McCann, Sam having to step in and intervene. Vasquez isn’t thinking about anything but how naked the affection and fondness on his face had been. No wonder everyone had known about his feelings before he’d even had a chance to say them out loud.

The scene cuts back to Emma in the interview booth.

“Do I think Josh has a crush on the cameraman?” She gives the camera a wicked smirk. “Honestly, who doesn’t? Have you seen that…”

The television is turned off abruptly when Vasquez manages to wrestle control of the remote out of Josh’s hands with a vicious kiss that takes him off guard.

“I know how this ends,” Vasquez murmurs, nipping and licking his way into a deeper kiss that Faraday willingly gives, rolling him onto his back to pin him there with Vasquez on top. “Why do we have to watch that crap when I have the best-looking thing right here in front of me?”

“I know there’s not a romantic bone in your body, sweetheart,” Faraday drawls, “but maybe I like watching you fuss over me. Gets me all turned on.”

Vasquez raises a pointed brow and glances down at Faraday where he’s laid out beneath him like a mountain to conquer. “In that case, I had better start finding other ways of turning you on.”

“I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll figure that out.”

It turns out, he’s right.

By the end of the night, Vasquez is more than happy to say that he’s figured out at least three new ways to make Faraday scream and beg and come. One of them even has the bonus of earning actual _tears_ , which Vasquez intends to try again later. So, you know, it’s so far, so good, as far as Vasquez is concerned. 

It’s so good that he doesn’t even complain when Faraday turns on the television again so they can watch the recording all over, with Faraday whispering sappy things in his half-asleep ear as he listens to episodes that made him fall in love on national television.

It turns out that Joshua had done what he’d turned up on the show to do, managing to find love. Suppressing a smile into his pillow, Vasquez thinks that maybe not all the contestants on the show are so awful, not if in the middle of them, comes one like Joshua Faraday. 

“Go to sleep,” Faraday murmurs softly. “I see you smirking.”

“Thinking about you,” Vasquez promises, with a kiss to Faraday’s chest.

“How about we turn those into some pleasant dreams,” Faraday coaxes. “On you go, sweetheart.”

He won’t ever say it out loud because it’s sappy beyond belief, but Vasquez doesn’t need pleasant dreams, not anymore. He’s already living an impossible dream come true and he never intends to let it end. Grinning against Faraday’s skin, he holds a little tighter, and feels so stupidly grateful that Faraday managed to find love, and that it’s brought a home to Vasquez that he’ll never leave, not if he can help it.


End file.
